The Striker (Gods of the Game, #1)

by Ana Huang

“Don’t call me darling.” “What about honeybun?” “No.” “Madame?” “No.” “Tinkerbell?” “Only if you want me to kick you in the tinkerbell between your legs.”

He wasn’t my brother’s nemesis or my trainee—he was the person who’d carried me up three flights of stairs, stayed with me until I regained consciousness, and didn’t make me feel like an object of pity when I told him about my accident. And that’s exactly why he’s dangerous.

“The point is, your injuries don’t define who you are. Maybe you’re not the same dancer anymore, but who says you have to be? Growth isn’t always linear, and I’ve seen you in the studio. I think you’re still pretty damn incredible.”

“You can’t let one bad ex ruin your opinion of the opposite sex forever,” she said gently. “Don’t let him have that power over you.”

“Just because you’re privileged in one way doesn’t mean you can’t struggle in other ways.”

Sometimes, merely existing took too much energy, so I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. At that moment, it was all I could do.

If he destroyed himself, he destroyed me, and once upon a time, I’d vowed never to put myself in a position where a man would have that type of power over me ever again.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that actions speak louder than words.